View: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LKCGlylRbRY
Commission for @toxinvictory
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What did it mean to be a king? What did it mean to be a human? What did it mean to fight for what that which one believes in? What did it mean to make others do the same, what did it mean for others to rule? What did it mean for others…
… To be human?
She was perfect, she had to be. She was without flaw, she had to be. She wasn't human, because she couldn't be. She was Arthur Pendragon, Artoria Pendragon, Brenin Arthur and Arthur Gernow. She was all of these things, she was none of these things. She was a shadow of a thing that had never been, a being that never was. Servants were heroes, servants were mighty kings and rulers. Servants were conniving witches, traitorous knights, and frothing madmen. Servants are, or were, mortal.
She was not.
Or at least, she wasn't. She was perfect. And perfection does not change, it does not grow. It is a finite point in reality, upon which all others are to be judged like a man before an altar. Other's could not see it. Others could not understand it. Perhaps that was why Mordred had turned against her. No.
No, she knew perfectly well why. But she could not acknowledge it, for that would mark an imperfection. She had to be perfect, even if it was to represent a kingdom that no longer existed, to serve people that no longer lived, to hold herself to an ideal that was long since lost. She wasn't human, she had stopped being human when she was young, and that was a choice she would make again, and again, and again. However many times destiny called her to do so. Perhaps in another time, another life. She could experience happiness, she could experience what it meant to
be a human, not a piece upon a chessboard tossed about by whimsical fae and fate. She had fought and bled in awful wars, she had killed many people, and now… now she would again.
But it was not this time, this moment, this place.
"Master, do not do this!" Saber shouted.
But that was all she did, she would not reach for her blade, to do so would be to fail her task, her duty.
"Servant, by my command seal, submerge yourself." Rin said quietly, fist raised, sign glowing.
She struggled, she struggled mightily. But she was already weak, and she tumbled forward. The muck and the mud swallowed her whole. She was perfect, she had to be. What else could a
corpse be?
What did it mean to be a king? To conquer, to win. To hold onto power and guarantee the best for her citizens. What did it mean to be a human? To die. She would never die, not again, never again. She would fight, she would win. She would take this war and make it hers. Her son would not stop her, her master would not stop her. She would have her…
Revenge?
Against… what?
Why?
Where… where was she?
The war… there was a war…
… War.
How very wonderful a concept.
She emerged from the muck and grime, her armor a midnight black, her breath chilling the air. She turned her head slowly, looking at her 'master'. Her expression bore nothing, but her eyes told everything.
For they were as empty as a corpse.
But then, was Arthur ever truly anything else?
Perhaps, but this world would never know.
